


It's time that I confess

by Halfling



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Flashbacks, Love Confessions, M/M, no smut in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halfling/pseuds/Halfling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future au, takes place about a year after the current show’s timeline in which Mike’s secret about not going to law school is out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's time that I confess

**Author's Note:**

> Pulls much inspiration from the song "Ghost Story" by Sting, which is where the title comes from, link to the lyrics is in the end notes. Originally posted to [my tumblr](www.halfhalfling.tumblr.com).

Harvey Specter was nursing a glass of scotch in his home just outside of Boston, staring into the embers of a dying fire in the fireplace, but his mind was two hundred miles away, back in New York. It’d been almost a year now since he moved away, just packed up what few possessions he had and left the life that men everywhere had envied and dreamed of all their lives, to come here. He was still the best at what he did. He was the top-paid lawyer in Boston, actually, but that was nothing compared to what he’d had. Why had he left? It was a question he asked himself a lot these days, but the answer he kept coming back to just couldn’t be right. Could it?

When Mike’s secret had finally got out in a big way, Harvey had been relying on Jessica’s help to keep it under control, to minimize damage, but even her vast political reach had limits. And Harvey’s reputation as untouchable and irreplaceable could only go so far. They’d offered him a way out. Give up Mike, save the firm’s reputation and your own if you just play along, admit you were conned, say anything against him at all, but Harvey couldn’t. He still didn’t know why.

In the end, they still hadn’t fired him. Maybe they should have. As Mike was lead off to a three-year jail sentence, the pay cut and demotion to junior partner they gave Harvey was barely a slap on the wrist. He didn’t need to leave the job. Certainly didn’t need to leave New York. There were plenty of other firms who would have paid through the roof to have Harvey Specter batting for them, even after the scandal. But he couldn’t stay. Couldn’t face the worried looks from Jessica and Donna, couldn’t stand Louis’s half-hidden smug grin. Especially couldn’t go about his everyday business knowing that only a few miles away Mike was sitting behind bars, counting down the days until he could be free again—free to face a life now ruined forever, and for what?

“He did it for you, to save _you_. If you can’t save him, what good are you?” Rachel’s last words to him before he left came back to Harvey like the whisper of a ghost.

“He was an idiot. He should have trusted me; we could have found another way!” He’d shouted back. It felt like a lie even then. Mike had only done the altruistic thing, putting Harvey before himself, and how had Harvey repaid him? By watching helplessly as the verdict was read and Mike was led off in handcuffs. He hadn’t even been able to keep it together enough for his testimony to remain on record.

 Harvey was never emotional, except when it came to Mike, and when the slimeball lawyer the prosecution had dredged up asked the question Harvey had been subconsciously dreading, he’d lost it. “Do you love Mike Ross?”

It echoed back to a year before, when Donna had been on the stand (albeit only in a mock trial), and Louis had asked her “Do you love Harvey Specter?” The irony wasn’t lost on him. He could have pleaded the fifth. He could have lied; said no. But Harvey Specter didn’t lie on the stand. And Harvey Specter didn’t respond well to being forced to face his own emotions.

He didn’t have an answer then. Still didn’t have an answer now. But how else could he explain his own actions? Harvey had made a mistake hiring Mike even knowing he hadn’t gone to law school. He knew that now, but if he was being honest with himself, he knew he’d do it again. Why? It was simple, really. He liked the kid. Mike reminded Harvey of himself, but with more idealism and something else: heart. Mike had heart. And it had infected Harvey.

Harvey took a healthy swallow of the scotch, not bothering to hide a grimace as it burned his mouth and throat. He was not on display here. This house was his exile, by choice. A self-inflicted punishment made out of guilt. But what else could he have done? It was pretty obvious that Mike was guilty of fraud; the defense couldn’t really hope to affect that outcome. Harvey’s testimony had only been meant to ensure the firm’s innocence. Instead, the lawyers had managed to turn it away from politics and make it personal. A confession of love would ensure the firm’s guilt. But it would also make Mike seem more sympathetic, Harvey realized later. It couldn’t have changed Mike’s guilty verdict, but maybe it could have granted him a lighter sentencing.

Three years was a long time. Especially when those years should have been spent living the American dream with the world at your fingertips, only to be forced to live with the knowledge that you can never have that again, even after those three years are up. Mike was one year into his sentence. He could probably get out sometime this year for good behavior. It was expensive enough keeping prisoners locked up, especially when they were nonviolent offenders who actually helped the economy by being out in the world, doing what they did best.

Testimony from the best lawyer in Boston could get him out even earlier, especially if it was an honest and emotional confession of love from the man who had almost started a riot in the courtroom rather than give them just that a year before. Harvey swallowed the rest of his scotch and called his secretary. He needed the next flight to New York.

The federal camp was well lit, and smelled like a hotel, rather than a prison. Harvey had visited this particular camp more times than he could count, talking to white-collar clients the firm had defended over the years. But he’d always been visiting as a lawyer, never as a friend.

Mike’s hair was shorter, and there was a sadness in his eyes that Harvey had never seen before, but otherwise he looked unchanged from his year in lockup. He didn’t look at Harvey has he was led into the visitor’s room.

“Mike—” Harvey began, but Mike cut him off.

“What are you doing here?” Mike asked in a low voice.

“I—“ Harvey was taken aback by his tone, but decided to get right to the point as quickly as possible. “I’m going to testify to the judge. Get them to let you out early.”

“Why bother?” Mike asked, glaring at the table between them.

“Why bother?” Harvey swallowed the anger that suddenly flared up in his chest. “You don’t deserve this. I’m going to get you out.”

“And that’s going to make it better? The infamous fallen lawyer Harvey Specter swooping in to save the day so he can get back to his cushy lawyer life and I can get back to living for my nonexistent future?”

The resentment in Mike’s voice stabbed Harvey in the gut, but he pushed on. “Your future isn’t nonexistent. This,” he gestured around at the room, “is only a setback. So you can’t be a lawyer in New York. There are still a million other things you can do with your life.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” Harvey paused to think, “like come work for me in Boston, for one.”

“Just like old times?” Mike’s tone was still dark, devoid of hope, devoid of anything but bitter resignation.

“Exactly.” Harvey ignored his tone.

“And why would you do that for me? If it’s because you feel guilty, don’t bother. You have nothing to feel guilty for. You did all you could a year ago. It didn’t change things then, and it won’t change things now. Go back to Boston.”

“That’s not true. My testimony was thrown out.”

“So? Wouldn’t have made me any less guilty.”

“But it could have garnered you sympathy. Got you a lighter sentence. That’s why I know I can get you out now.”

“They already heard your testimony. It got thrown out after you went postal on that lawyer and started yelling at the jury, but there was nothing there that would have made me seem any more sympathetic.”

“Wrong, they heard most of my testimony. I never finished answering all the lawyer’s questions.”

“He was just trying to get you to say you loved me or something stupid like that. A low tactic. He should have known it would only piss you off.”

“A low tactic, but one that had the jury’s attention. The judge’s, too. If I could go back and testify that I love you, the judge will let you go, I know she will.”

Mike let out a bitter laugh. “Wow, Boston really has changed you if you’re willing to lie on the stand.”

“It wouldn’t be a lie.”

Mike looked up and met Harvey’s eye for the first time since they had last seen each other at the trial a year ago. “What do you mean?”

Familiar panic gripped at Harvey, urging him to run, or shout, or hit something; anything that would get him away from those blue eyes and the question he’d been asking himself for a year now. “I mean,” Harvey swallowed hard, “that I love you. I have loved you. I must have loved you, or why else would I even be here?” His voice cracked, and covered his face with one hand.

“Harvey, I—” Mike started, but was interrupted by a rapping on the door and a guard entered.

“Visiting hours are up,” he informed them, and grabbed Mike by the arm.

“Wait,” said Harvey, but Mike was already being pulled away. “I’m going to get you out!” he shouted after him, “I promise!” He had no idea if Mike heard him or not.

Harvey’s testimony was enough to convince the judge to let Mike go early, just as Harvey had known it would. It took another month, but then Harvey was parked outside the camp, waiting for Mike to walk out, a free man once more.

Mike looked lost, stepping into the New York winter sun in the same suit he’d worn to court all those months ago. It felt like half a lifetime to Harvey.

“Get your ass in the Bentley before you freeze to death!” He yelled at him through the Bentley’s window.

Mike got in, carefully shutting the door and trying not to get snow everywhere. “I could have walked,” he said quietly.

Harvey scoffed. “Yeah, walk through six inches of slush in those shoes and no coat? Where would you even go, you lost your apartment and your stuff is all in storage.”

Mike shook his head. “Thanks for reminding me. I don’t need your charity though; they set me up with an apartment off tenth.”

“Right. A tiny hole in the wall that you’d need a .45 to get to safely? Not gonna happen. You’re coming back to Boston with me.”

It was Mike’s turn to scoff. “And why would I do that?”

“Because it’s the best offer you’re going to get and you know it. And I’m the one who just got your ass out of prison. You kind of owe me.”

“And you love me. Are we going to talk about that, by the way?”

Harvey shrugged and put the car in drive, aiming for the airport where he had two tickets back to Boston. “If you want. I’ll be honest, I’m going to need something to drink before I can even begin to think about that again.”

“I hear Boston has some of the best beer.”

“I was thinking something stronger than that, but yeah.”

“Well I hear you can get extra vodka on planes if you’re nice to the stewardess.” Mike raised an eyebrow.

“Sounds like a plan.”

They shared a smile and for a moment it was like the past year hadn’t happened.

“And Harvey?”

“Yeah, Mike.”

“I love you too.”

They rode the rest of the way to the airport in silence, heartbeats fluttering in sync.

**Author's Note:**

> "Ghost Story" lyrics [here](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/sting/ghoststory.html).


End file.
